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Pied Piper

My favorite thing about living in New York is you never know who you’ll run into. For example, 30 minutes into a particularly sweaty and red-faced downward dog, you may learn that the nice man next to you in yoga class that had asked to save him a spot is Edward Norton. Or, you may be having dinner at ABC Kitchen and find yourself seated in the same room as Bey and Jay (you will immediately panic, continue ordering $17 cocktails until the -Z family is ready to leave, and then follow Beyonce into the bathroom where you will attempt to guess which toilet seat she sat on and revel in the fact that your butt touched a place that Beyonce’s butt just touched before realizing that there is no way The Queen herself doesn’t squat on public toilets).

The above are two of my best celebrity sightings (Ed Norton because he was delightfully awkward at yoga and Beyonce because sometimes when I am sad I think of the radiant glow that she exuded that night), but my truly favorite people to run into in New York aren’t the famous kind–they’re true, real, bizarre, and wonderful New Yorkers. Take, for example, the two little old ladies, decked out in full-on Liza-Minnelli-robs-an-Hermès garb, smoking Virginia Slims while walking their collective seven studded-collar puppies, who stumbled upon this past Saturday’s West Village photo shoot and decided that their dogs absolutely had to take part.